


a story you told (one summer's day)

by stardusting



Category: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Ensemble Cast, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-26 08:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardusting/pseuds/stardusting
Summary: Izuku does not expect his trip to his new home to end with his mom turning into a pig and him being forced to work at a bathhouse in hopes of going home. But he'll take what he can get if it means righting what he's wronged. If there are other mysteries to be solved, then he supposes he has time for those too.11/27/17: on hiatus until mid-december





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sticks my leggy back in the bnha fandom after a year of no content by presenting a spirited away!au

The summer of Izuku’s fifteenth year starts with him leaving the only city he has ever known. His mom’s new job is taking them far from Musutafu to a place where the population is less and the streets are quieter. A place where she can make a better name for herself and do great things.

Izuku doesn’t know how he feels about moving so suddenly; though, it isn’t sudden since he’s had since winter to mentally prepare himself for this day. He’s been a fluctuation of emotions in the form of a boy on most days – excited one moment and then nervousness the next. His mom tells him that everything will be fine, that he’ll make friends and enjoy his high school life in the way young people are supposed to. Izuku wants to believe her, wants to hope with all his heart and know without a doubt he’ll fit in nicely in their new home, but Izuku is keenly aware that he isn’t exactly what everyone is looking for in a friend.

From pre-school to junior high, there was bullying and teasing and people constantly avoiding him. He’s heard the whispered words behind hands and the barely suppressed laughter from his other classmates. Izuku grew up knowing he was a little too odd for the taste of his peers – his mumbling too constant and loud and his attention on all the wrong things. He was hopeful and yearning in a way that even the teachers believed was too much for a boy like him, so plain and average, and when Izuku was rejected from the high school of his dreams – one of the best in the entire country – that only proved them right. His dreams are too big for someone like him.

So really, Izuku isn’t sure how upset he is about moving. It’s a nice idea, starting fresh where no one knows his name or history – where he doesn’t have the baggage of constant bullying hanging over his shoulders. It had hurt when he left and no one bothered to tell him goodbye or wish him good luck with his new life. The only ones that bothered to send him off personally were the old couple that lived next to him and his mom that helped babysit him when he was younger. They had given him hugs and hard candies and a card small enough to stuff in his pocket.

But Musutafu, despite how cruel it was to him at times, was home in the simplest of sense and the easiest of ways. Izuku knows where all the good places to eat are and which places have which sales on which days. He was familiar with walking down those streets every day, able to find his way home no matter where his feet ended up taking him. Now he has to relearn all that, and though the idea of exploring a new city ignites a bit of excitement in his bones, it’s a bit daunting to think about. What if he gets lost and can’t find his way home and causes trouble for everyone? What if he makes his mom worry because he’s unable to properly get his feet off the ground in the end? She’ll probably urge them to move back because Izuku knows she’d do anything for him, and he doesn’t want to be the cause of her unable to follow her dream.    

She doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve such an incapable son.

“How long before we get there,” Izuku asks, tired from the negative train of thought for one day. They’ve been driving for hours and his body’s getting sore from staying in one place for too long; he doesn't want his mind to tire out as well.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer,” his mom answers, excitement hitching her tone. She leans forward to read an oncoming sign. “Our exit should be right around here, and then it’s just a few more miles after that. We won’t beat the movers, but we should get there a bit after lunch. Or I could stop real quick if you’re hungry.”

It’s a nice offer and Izuku is starting to feel the dull gnawing of hunger now that he’s focused on something other than his tumult of thoughts, but it doesn’t seem necessary at this point. “I’m fine. Maybe we can find a place to eat in town once everything seems okay.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!" his mom chirps, so, so excited about this new town. "It’ll help us learn the town better and – shoot!”

The exclamation makes Izuku blink, shocked by his mom’s outburst and curious too. He sees her frantically looking between the road and off to the side – like she’s trying to make up her mind about where to go, but it isn’t quite working. Ruminating on decisions isn’t an easy thing while driving a car, Izuku is sure of. 

Izuku unbuckles his seatbelt and leans forward, sitting on his knees, and hands gripping the back of his mom’s seat as he tries to see if he can help. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I missed our turn a couple exits back.”

Izuku bites his lip and keeps an eye out for anything that might indicate a safe point to turn around in. He knows his mom well enough to know she won’t be comfortable turning around in the middle of the road to retrace their route.

“What about there?” he points to what seems to be an older exit coming up. It’s hard to see with all the foliage covering the sign, but if it doesn’t work out, they could always find a rest stop on the road and ask for proper directions.

His mom nods, determined shine in her eyes and takes the turn. It’s fine at first until the foliage gets thicker and the road gets bumpier and the incline steeper. For a brief second, Izuku feels like they might crash and the idea of it chills his bones because it would be his fault entirely.

“Sit down, Izuku!” his mom says in a voice sharp enough that he complies before he even realizes it, his hand gripping the handle above the door to keep himself steady.

Though he can see a fine sheen of sweat on his mom’s forehead through the rearview mirror, her expression is still determined, not at all anxiety ridden like the way Izuku feels. The road feels never ending and terrible, and Izuku watches as branches snap at the windows like breaking fingers and their surroundings become nothing but a green blur around them. A sudden stop marks the end of it, his mom applying the brakes so suddenly that Izuku feels like he would have shot through the window if not for his tight grip.

His mom lets out a giant sigh, as does Izuku, both relieved that it’s over. In front of the car is a stone statue – of what, he isn’t quite sure – but it’s weatherworn and eerie in a way he can’t quite place. Even odder than the statue stands the entrance to some place. It’s traditional in structure and the paint job might have originally been red and not the faded and cracked color that it is today.

“I wonder what it is,” Izuku mutters aloud and is out the car before his mom can even think of an answer.

Eyes roaming the building, he thinks about what it might be as he walks closer – leaves and branches crunching underfoot. When he knocks on the side, it sounds oddly hollow, like it’s made of plaster or a similar material. An old amusement park perhaps or maybe the entrance to a housing subdivision. Or maybe the backway to some place that isn’t used anymore if the overgrown path is anything to go by.

“Izuku,” his mom’s voice is soft with worry, she’s standing right by his elbow. “let’s go back in the car and see if we can get out of here.”

Selfishly, Izuku doesn’t want to leave, not yet. The more time he can waste, the more time he can spend away from his new and inevitable future. Plus, this building is odd and he’s curious about what lies on the other side of it.

“Can we walk through here first?” he even adds a bit of a pleading look to help his case. “There might be people on the other side that can help us. Give us direction and maybe even look at the car to make sure it can still drive.”

Seconds stretch as his mom weighs the options in her head, her lip biting a habit that Izuku picked up. She glances between the ominously dark entryway and back to Izuku a few times before sighing and nodding.  

“But we have to be quick about it, okay. The movers won’t be happy if we’re too late.”

Izuku nods his promise and takes a deep breath before stepping into the entryway, steps careful and already mildly overwhelmed by how dark it is despite how bright it is outside. His mom is quick to keep pace with him, something he doesn’t mind because the way gets steadily darker and it feels like there will never be an end. He doesn’t know how long they walk, only the soft echo of their feet against the stone floor keeps their time. He spares a brief look back, seeing that the way they came in is only a pinprick of light.

For a second, he’s worried that this might be a terrible idea, that they should turn around because this is obviously turning into a fruitless effort. However, that’s when they see it, a flooding of light indicating the end of the tunnel. They have finally reached a destination, and Izuku, suddenly so full of excitement and relief, rushes ahead in a burst of energy he can’t explain. His mom’s pleas for him to _slow down_ and _come back_ and _not run off so suddenly_ falling deaf to his ears.

Izuku feels wonder and awe when he emerges to the other side. All around him is a place that’s beautiful and serene, almost like he’s in another world. There is grass waving in the sweet scented breeze and slightly sloping hills. Overhead floats the whitest and puffiest clouds Izuku has ever seen hanging in a blue sky so bright and wonderful, he can’t even begin to describe the color. There are old buildings, collapsed and sunken deep into the earth that only roofs show, but it seems to fit with the landscape around him in an odd sort of way. On this side, the entryway is more weatherworn but the color is bright, a distinctive red with an old clock that sits proudly on the face of it despite being frozen in time. 

He wants to explore further beyond this area, but he remembers that he should wait for his mom and see what she thinks about it. She pops up a moment later, huffing her breaths and worry leaking from her frame when she spots her son.

“Please don’t run off like that again, dear,” there’s no scolding in her voice, just worry and Izuku feels guilt curling in his stomach. “your mother isn’t as young as she used to be, you know?”

“Sorry, mom.” Izuku apologizes and offers her his elbow to grab onto. “This place though, it’s nice, isn’t it? I’m still wondering what it might be, but I got nothing.”

“It really is lovely. Maybe it’s a sanctuary of some sort, for wildlife? You know they like to leave those untouched as possible. Do you want to explore a bit more? I’m sure there must be something close.”

Izuku nods frantically, eyes shining in a way that’s a remnant from when he was younger and everything new excited him. His mom laughs and ushers him forward gently, letting him lead with careful steps and searching eyes.

They walk a while, green grass brushing against their ankles and the sun warming them overhead. The weather is nice enough that neither of them complain, just fill the air with the occasional chatter about idle things. Izuku doing most the talking because that’s how it always goes.

They pass a flower field at one point and what looks like a half-formed river the next. Izuku is quick to help his mom across it since there isn’t a bridge that he can see and the large rocks will be dangerous if she slips.

They land on steps cracked and moss covered from age and above them seems to be the beginnings of a town.

“Izuku, someone’s cooking something,” his mom states, her finger pointing up ahead.

Izuku smells it too – savory and delicious scents that make his mouth water and stomach growl at the thought of what all the food might be. After all that walking, he isn’t opposed to stopping to eat something.

It’s a unanimous decision to walk into the town and see where the food is. The buildings here too are aged in a way that seems quaint – with their chipping paint and crooked signs – though odd that there isn’t a single a person that he can see around. But the Midoriyas trudge on regardless. Izuku brings up the idea that maybe they’re preparing for a festival of some sort and his mom agrees since that’s only reason they can think such a large place would look like a ghost town.

“There,” Izuku points out when they enter what seems to be a restaurant district. One of the establishments has a large array of food already cooked and prepared and layed out on the counter. There’s even food still boiling in the pots, but Izuku doesn’t see a single person that might work there.

His mind starts churning out possibilities, wondering why someone would leave all this food out and restaurant empty even though it’s the afternoon. He should do more investigating before getting comfortable, see if anyone shows up that can answer his questions.

“Hey mom, I’m gonna look around a bit more. You sit down and eat something, okay.”

His mom, already seated, looks at him with worry, like she isn’t quite comfortable with Izuku wandering around by himself. He doesn’t blame her though. This place is odd, but he should be fine. He doesn’t plan to wander too long or go too far away.

“Are you sure, sweetie? You haven’t eaten since this morning and then you did all that walking.”

“So did you, but I’ll be okay for a few more minutes. You know how I get when I’m curious.”

“Well if you’re sure,” she says uncertainly, but grabs a plate and begins putting food on it regardless. “ask around for the owner of this stall too if you can. I want to be able to pay them back. I’ll stay here so you can find me if you need me. Stay safe honey.”

She sends him a smile over her shoulder, one that Izuku returns ten-fold before he heads off on his search.

Izuku’s curiosity pulls him towards another set of stone steps, spotting a large and ornate bathhouse when he reaches the top. It’s in business if the black smoke coming from the pipe is any indication of that. Maybe this place more like a vacation town or tourist trap – a place more likely to see a rise in activity when night falls rather than midafternoon.

Peering over the side of the bridge that separates the bathhouse from the rest of the town, Izuku spots a train emerging from somewhere and going someplace else. This place is getting odder and odder still he decides as he rushes to the other side of the bridge to see the train pass under it. He doesn’t have a clue where it’s going because he has no clue where he is at this point. This is becoming a problem.

Pushing back from the red painted railing, Izuku turns but falters when he spots a person standing just a few feet away from him. It’s a boy about his age, clothes oddly traditional and hair white on one side and scarlet on the other and a scar on his face just barely hidden by the shadow of his hair. They seem both shocked to see each other, a silence that hangs heavy and tense before Izuku gives a quivering smile and weak wave.

“H-hello,” he tries to be polite, but it doesn’t quite seem to work.

“How did you get here?” the boy asks instead, his tone smooth like velvet, but the look in his eyes is cold like shards of ice.

“I…we…that is me and my mom…” Izuku’s tongue stumbles and trips over words, all social graces failing him at once.

“It doesn’t matter,” the strange boy says, stepping closer to Izuku, his feet making sounds on the wooden bridge this time. “You need to leave.”

Izuku falters, confusion growing as he takes a wary step back, shoulders hunching protectively –  instinctually. He opens his mouth to question _why_ and just who this person is, but he gets cut off by a harsh look that freezes him in place.

“Leave,” the stranger says again, taking strides closer until he has Izuku’s arm in a tight grip “before gets dark, you need to cross the river and _leave_.”

Like a spell has been broken, time becomes disjointed. The sun sets in a matter of seconds, cloaking the two boys in the dark and lanterns buzz and flicker to life around them. Izuku feels panic jackrabbiting his heart against his ribcage at how rapidly the situation has gotten worse, how quickly everything is changing.

The boy looks behind them at the looming bathhouse, hissing out a curse before turning his attention back on Izuku.

“Cross the river before it gets completely dark. You have time while they’re still lighting the lanterns.” He instructs cryptically before shoving Izuku with enough force to propel him forward. “I’ll distract them. Go!”

Enough urgency has risen in the other’s tone that Izuku wastes no time running down the stairs even though he nearly falls flat on his face in the process. He does spare the briefest of glances over his shoulder to see the boy, his back towards him in a stance that seems intentional –  seems protective.

 _I can trust him_ , Izuku thinks fiercely as he runs frantically down the streets, ignoring the aches in his sides and the panic climbing up his throat. He needs to get his mom quickly and get them out of here while the lanterns are still slowly lighting up around him. The river isn’t far, so if they run they can make it and go home.

He swears he sees shadows rising from the ground and taking shapes around him as he runs, but he ignores that, too focused on finding his mom so they can leave. When he stumbles on the place he left her, he is shaken to the core by what he sees. Around the stool and the counter is a mess of food, more food than his mom could ever eat in one sitting. In the stool, large and nearly bursting out of the outfit he remembers his mom wearing, is a pig. 

It feels like a sick joke and Izuku tastes bile crawling up the back of his throat from the panic and horror that has already set in. This can’t be his mom, but that’s exactly where he left her when he so stupidly went off on his own. Maybe if he can lead her to the river, it can be fixed, whatever this.

“Mom,” he says frantically, urgently, hands touching just the clothes – still afraid and struck by disbelief. “Mom! Mom! We need to go, come on, mom! _Please!_ ”

The pig just turns to give him an uninterested look – eyes the same green as his mom’s –  before it grows interested in the few remaining remnants of food on the counter. Izuku – unsure of what to do – takes steps back until he hits a wooden pillar as a plate is broken and more messes are made. From the steam of still cooking meals, a swatter attached to a hand hits the pig ( _hismom **not** hismomit’sherit’s **not** her_) repeatedly in the face, the sound so sharp that Izuku swears he feels it too from where he stands.

When the pig falls from the stool into a squealing heap on the ground, Izuku can’t take it anymore. His once frozen legs urge him to move, to run to the river himself because none of this real, it can't be. He chokes out a sob, an _I’m sorry_ falling on deaf ears as he runs, tears rolling freely down his freckled cheeks. All around him shadows are becoming people and lanterns are being lit. How quickly this place has turned into something terrible and unfathomable.

He just runs and runs and runs until he hits the river, only stopping when he realizes the water suddenly too deep to cross when it reaches his waist just a few steps in. He stares out in disbelief, water stretches across the expanse that was only grass just less than an hour ago, the place where he entered distant and glowing.

 _This can’t be real_ , he repeats in his mind over and over like saying it will make it true. All of this can’t be close to real. He must be in the car and dreaming still, but his chest aches as he struggles to breathe and the tears are hot as they fall down his face. He curls up on the stairs and wishes and waits for all of this to be over.

As he wishes for himself to just disappear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 2am on a sunday night and i have to wake up for classes in a few hours so i'll go through a proper reread of this later and fix ugly ugly mistakes and weird wording if there are any, so forgive me in advance. also thanks for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks. it keeps me alive.

Izuku feels weightless in this moment, unsustainable and out of reach with the world around him because the world around him is nothing like he’s ever experienced. Legs folded flush to his chest and closed eyes pressed against his knees so hard he sees bursts of light behind his eyelids, he tries still to convince himself that nothing going on is real. He knows it’s futile because he remembers everything that led up to this moment in a clarity so unlike a dream.

He wishes it were though, wishes this were just some terrible dream more for his mom’s sake than his own at this point. She’s alone somewhere and Izuku is here – self-pitying in the most useless of ways. He’s the one that led them here and insisted they keep moving forward, and he’s the one that left her alone because of his curiosity, for all it’s everything that makes him who he is, it’s Izuku’s greatest vice and the events of today proved it.

It’s all his fault and he knows and it hurts worse than anything – being alone and stranded and more afraid than he’d readily to admit. But, he’d admit now if doing so reversed everything that happened, if it would bring his mom back and send them both on the other side of the great expanse of water so they can walk back to the car and continue towards their new home. He’d easily take that strange and unfamiliar place over this one.

Izuku – for all his self-deprecating nature right now – knows that nothing good will come from him just sitting out in the open like this, so he takes steady breaths of air and mutters small comforts to himself, willing his body to lift his head and to move his feet. The tears have stopped now, but they’ve left his eyes aching and the tracks have dried on his cheeks. He sniffs and wonders how much of a mess he looks at this moment, probably terrible. Izuku cries often enough to know it’s an ugly affair and is glad no one is around to see it.

His eyes catch on a boat swiftly coming to dock, so ornate like everything else he’s seen. The lights attached to it are bright and golden, so bright that Izuku must lift his had in front of his face to shield his eyes. It doesn’t work. The light bleeds through his fingers and arm like they’re translucent and fading. The most shocking thing is that they are.

Izuku yelps as he rushes to stand, looking down at the state of his body. He is becoming a ghost of a boy, disappearing in a way he wished he could have done just minutes before. Like he can somehow keep himself from fading into nothing, he wraps his arms tight around himself and wills his body to stay. If he willed his own disappearance then maybe, maybe, this will work too. Maybe this place is constructed of a backward sort of logic he can make use of.

Arms still wrapped right around himself and mind still prompting his body not to fade, the large boat finally comes to dock and from the closed doors file identical paper masks floating in the night air. Odder still is the fact that as soon as the masks hover near the steps, a body bleeds into reality. Dressed like nobles from a bygone era, in outfits Izuku has only seen in history books and documentaries, they all file out in an orderly fashion, coordinated in a way that’s unsettling. It’s not just those strange creatures with their paper masks and the three tomoe on their cheeks he notices. Izuku spots different forms and creatures filing out – like a strange menagerie of tourists coming to an even stranger land.

It is a mesmerizing sight, and they don’t even glance his way as he stares on, a wide-eyed and curious stranger taking in their various shapes and sizes and beings. They probably can’t even see him, and Izuku remembers with a sudden clarity that he is still fading from existence. He remembers that, though this place is oddly beautiful and wholly strange, he doesn’t belong here. He probably shouldn’t even want to be noticed if he can help it.

Izuku makes a retreat up the grass-covered hill and back into town, sticks to the shadows where no lanterns are there to light his path so he has to rely on the distant light from the other buildings to keep his footing. He lets his mind wander and thinks of ways he can stop himself from fading and wonders where he can find his mom and get them home, but every idea that runs in his mind becomes a futile wish of his. He’s left his mom behind in his fear after all, and now he has no idea where she is or where to even being looking or if she’s still even okay.  

He feels his eyes burn with unshed tears and Izuku is angry at himself because crying won’t bring anyone back and it won’t help the situation. But he can’t stop them either, having always been free with his emotions, having been raised in a house where his mom always encouraged him to cry and feel with his whole heart. He loves her for her support even though it’s odd sometimes and not always what he needed, but how can he blame her when he knew she was trying her best? She’s raised him by herself for fifteen years and he repays her by leading her into a strange land and then leaving her behind when things got too confusing and overwhelming for him to deal with.

He’s always wanted to help people, to grow up and be someone that others can rely on, but this moment has taught him that he can’t become that person. Not if he runs and hides every time he’s afraid, not if he finds a dirty alcove to curl up in cry in when all his options run out and it feels like the world has gone askew.

Maybe if he disappears from this life, he can be reborn into something better.

* * *

Izuku doesn’t know how long he sits there, but he knows he hasn’t completely faded yet. He’s been keeping track of his breathing and he can still hear the distant sounds of people making their way into the town, voices too far off to hear anything distinct. He’s jealous of how at ease they are, but then again, they belong here and he doesn’t. They have no reason to fear this place and the oddities that cloak it.

“Hey,” says a voice so quietly, so suddenly, that Izuku is too alarmed to do much besides jerk his head up in shock and try to back away, a futile effort since he’s set himself into a corner.

It’s the boy from the bridge, with his dual colored hair and scarred face and nice eyes. Izuku feels like he can maybe trust this person because he’s the one that warned him in the first place and apparently did something to keep anyone from noticing as he ran around frantically for however long that was. He wants to trust this strange boy, but another part of him whispers words of warning and he tries to map out a way he can quickly escape if he needs to.

“How’d you find me?” Izuku can’t help but ask and wonders if others are looking for him too.

“You didn’t make it easy,” says the boy in a voice that sounds slightly resigned, but it’s hard to tell. Izuku watches carefully as he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. “Here, eat this.”

Immediately, Izuku thinks of his mom who ate the food here and turned into a pig because of it, so he shakes his head and wonders if he can get away with flinging dirt in the other’s eyes and making a run for it.

“No thanks.”

A quick flicker of emotion passes across the boy’s face that Izuku can’t quite decipher, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared. He holds whatever is in his hand out further, more insistent.

“You have to unless you want to fade completely.”

Izuku doesn’t really want to fade, but he can’t trust the food here, this much he knows. He goes to say just that, but as soon as he opens his mouth, the boy shoots his hand out forward, and suddenly, Izuku has the taste of something bitter on his tongue and a cool hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” the boy says and actually does look apologetic. “you looked ready to fight me about it, and we don’t have time to go back and forth. Chew and swallow.” Like an afterthought, he adds, “It won’t turn you into a pig.”

Not quite comforted, but having no other choice, Izuku does so. It’s terribly bitter like a pill and the fact that he has to chew it only makes the flavor worse. He reluctantly swallows, less because he’s being forced to and more so because it’s absolutely disgusting and will probably leave the worst aftertaste.

Seemingly satisfied, the hand drops from his mouth and the boy gives a small upward twitch of his lips and looks a bit less tense.

Izuku reflexively wrinkles his nose and hates the fact that he had to eat something so gross, “What was that?”

“Oh, just a bit of food from this world. You needed to eat it before you faded completely.”

True to his word, Izuku sees that he’s slowly becoming more defined – it’s the vanishing in reverse. He lets out a relieved sigh, mind now reeling with questions about this place and the mechanics of it. He opens his mouth to ask the most basic one he can think of, but he sees that the other is looking at the sky with wary eyes and a slight frown.

There go the short few seconds he had of not feeling so terrible about his situation, “What’s wrong?”

Instead of an answer, the boy moves closer until Izuku is pressed flushed against the wall and being caged in by the body of a person he doesn’t even know the name of. This close, he can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing rather than see it. It’s intimate in a way Izuku isn’t used to and he feels his cheeks burn red, and hates the fact that he’s always been easily flustered.

“Do you see that bird?” whispered words break the silence once again; the boy’s eyes are still trained at the sky.

Izuku looks up once more, this time catching sight what’s being looked out for. It’s a great bird, wreathed in flames of orange and red, flying in circles in a way that reminds Izuku of birds of prey and how they look for their food before swooping down and snatching them up. They both watch in a tense silence as it flies off out of sight.

“It’s looking for you,” the boy says, standing up from his crouched position, hand holding Izuku’s wrist. “follow me.”

“Wait,” Izuku feels his voice rise from increasing panic, tugging on the hand holding him to garner attention once more. “what about my mom?”

The boy’s expression softens immediately, something about it looks wholly genuine, “You can’t see her right now, but I promise you will soon. Come with me first.”

Izuku weighs his options but he already knows he’ll have to follow this benevolent stranger. He’s already done enough to ensure Izuku’s trust without them having even exchanged names yet. This is the type of person Izuku wishes to be – someone others can rely on, someone who keeps others safe without even knowing a thing about them.

“Okay,” he finally says but finds that he can’t stand despite his efforts. “W-wait, something went wrong! I can’t move my legs!”

“Calm down,” the boy says simply, crouching down so they’re eye level once more like this was something he was expecting. “I need you to take a deep breath and stay calm.”

Izuku nods, taking deep and measured breaths to calm the spike in his heart rate back to something normal.

The boy whispers words too low to catch, hand hovering over Izuku’s prone legs. There’s a chill like ice and a blue glow from whatever he’s doing. _Magic_ , Izuku’s mind supplies, and this place is strange enough that he has no reason not to believe it.

“Get up,” the boy says as he stands, voice commanding in a way that Izuku’s legs quickly jump to attention so suddenly that it shocks him.

How strange, but there’s no time to question it and no time for Izuku to regain his bearings before the boy breaks out into a run so swift that everything blurs in just a few seconds. As they run, he keeps a firm enough grip on Izuku’s wrist that they don’t accidentally get separated, but it’s a grip loose enough not to hurt. He knows his way around this place well, Izuku notes as they run through back alleys and past darkened buildings. He slows down when appropriate and doesn’t seem to have to think about where they’re going.

But the most amazing thing is the doors. It only takes a movement of the hand whatever door is blocking their way opens before they even get to it so they can run without stopping, and Izuku even catches when they close behind them. They run through a storage room and butcher shop with dripping red meats of all kinds and a meat locker so cold that Izuku can see the few breaths he takes as they make their way through. When they enter where all the pigs are packed closely together, Izuku can’t help but stare at each one they pass, wondering which one might be his mom if she really did turn into one.

They finally slow once they reach the outskirts of the bathhouse, neither one of them sweating or gasping for breath despite all the running that just happened. This close Izuku can see just how ornate building really is and hear workers welcoming patrons at the entrance, their voices filtering into the night sky.

“I’m going to cast a spell that’ll help you cross the bridge,” the boy says as he opens the door to what seems to be a small garden complete with stone steps forming a path and flowers in bloom. “you’ll need to take a deep breath and hold it until we get pass or everyone will see you.”

That’s a lot of weight Izuku suddenly feels resting on his shoulders, but he doesn’t say anything about it. How could he when this person has already done so much to help him? He’s sure he can hold his breath until they reach the safety of the other side even with all the people (though Izuku is unsure if that’s the right word to describe them) walking along it at leisurely paces. He just needs psych himself up for it though, and if he’s nervous enough to inch closer to the one that’s saved his life in numerous different ways tonight, then it’s only him that needs to know. He doesn’t get pushed away and for that he’s grateful. It’s necessary anyway, so they don’t get separated. This Izuku is convincing himself.

“Take a deep breath,” he’s told once they’re close enough to the bridge that everything matters now, and Izuku does so. Takes a deep breath like it’ll be his last and holds it once their feet touch the wood of the bridge.

It is overwhelming, walking amongst these creatures, some with spectral forms and some with many eyes and some with razor-sharp teeth. Some look like monsters plucked straight out of storybooks and brought to life. Even though the strange boy is between him and most of the crowd, much like a protective barrier, Izuku finds himself shrinking further into his space regardless, wishing ardently that he could exude as much calm as his companion is in this moment.

It's hard, and when a pair of red eyes seem to make contact with Izuku’s own it gets harder still, and he feels his breath hitch and catch in his throat, but he doesn’t dare take a breath.

“You’re doing fine,” whispers the boy so softly that his mouth barely moves. “we’re almost there.”

And they are, they’ve gotten close enough that Izuku can clearly see the form of the greeters, and they are the most humanoid figures he’s seen all night besides the one at his side. But there’s something off about them that makes them just not human enough and it unsettles Izuku enough not to stare too long, worried that the spell will break if they sense eyes on them.

“Welcome back, Master Todoroki,” says a squat man as they pass, his head respectfully bowed and a smile on his face.

The boy gives no indication of hearing or having cared about the greeting, but Izuku assumes that must be his name, having been the only one to get direct acknowledgment rather than something generic. He wishes he could ask, rather than just calling him _the boy_ and _the stranger_ in his head like he’s been doing all night. It’s just the polite thing to do.

A few more steps and they will have crossed the bridge and will be inside the safety of the bathhouse, and Izuku is proud of himself for having lasted this long though his lungs burn and tears are collecting in the corner of his eyes.

Just a few more steps and he won’t have to worry anymore and he can see his mom and get them both out of here. It’s a nice thought that bolsters his mood.

But the world has cruel ways of conspiring against Izuku tonight, and a figure jumps out in front of them suddenly, a girl who looks like a strange mixture between girl and frog. Her sudden proximity of her face causes Izuku to gasp and just like that, the spell is broken. He tries to rectify it by holding his breath once more, but the damage is done, and they’re both caught in a wide-eyed stare down, both of them shocked by what just happened.

She looks like she’s going to speak, but the boy at Izuku’s side is faster than the both of them. A wave of his hand causes ice to sprout at the girl’s feet and a thin layer of it to bloom across her mouth. Her eyes widen further, and Izuku feels terrible about having this happening, but he doesn’t have time to fret about that because the boy grips his hand so tightly and suddenly they are running, no, flying close to the ground and between feet to reach a small gate that Izuku is ushered through hastily.

The damage is done though. Once they settle between camellia bushes and just out of view of the shoji that would give away their shadows, it’s easy to hear the commotion going on inside. Frantic feet and frantic yells can be easily heard, everyone calling Todoroki’s name and wondering what happened. Izuku feels bad for what he’s done, how he messed up something so simple.

“I’m sorry,” he says, curled up into himself once more. “we were so close and I messed up.”

“You did fine, Izuku,” Todoroki reassures and honestly doesn’t look bothered by what happened. “we just have to change plans.”

“To what?” he asks, marveling a little more at the fact that a backup plan was thought of.

A cool hand is suddenly pressed to his forehead and Todoroki speaks, voice calm as a spell, “When everything’s gotten quiet, go out the back way and down the stairs until you reach the boiler room. That’s where Aizawa-sensei is. You’re going have to ask him for work.”

“Aizawa-sensei,” Izuku echoes back, slightly dazed from having images slowly impress upon his mind. Another magic thing he doesn’t understand. And why do they call the boilerman sensei of all things? That he can probably ask another time though.  

“He’s stubborn, so he’ll try to trick you into leaving and keep denying you, but you can’t take _no_ for an answer. Don’t leave until you get the job.”

“What happens if I don’t get a job?”

“Endeavor will turn you into an animal and then you won’t be able to help your mother. You need a job in the bathhouse to make sure that won’t happen.”

Izuku thinks of the fiery bird that circling the sky looking for him and swallows down the lump in his throat. “Who…who is Endeavor exactly?”

Something in Todoroki’s expression shifts, something harsher than he’s seen all night. “He’s a very powerful warlock that runs the bathhouse, but he’s not dumb enough to permanently damage his workers. Hence why you need the job.”

“Okay,” Izuku nods, still unsure about how to feel when it comes to working for someone who was hunting him not too long ago. “he’s the one that turned my mom into a pig, isn’t he? I wasn’t dreaming.”

“You weren’t, but if anyone can get her back, it’s you.”

Izuku finds that it’s nice to have someone who seems to have so much faith in him. A change of pace from people who always told him what he couldn’t do rather than what he could. Izuku doesn’t know how to feel about it besides slightly embarrassed due to a stranger believing in him wholeheartedly despite not knowing much about him.

“I have to go now,” Todoroki says, standing to his feet. “you’ll be safe out here as long as you stick to the shadows.”

Izuku suddenly remembers one of the oddest things to happen tonight loudly whispers before Todoroki can enter the bathhouse, “How do you know my name?”

That seems to catch Todoroki off guard like he too didn’t realize the fact that he knew Izuku’s name before he even gave it. But he shrugs with an idleness that Izuku envies and says, “I’ve known you for a very long time.” And disappears inside without another word.

That response was cryptic in a way that Izuku isn’t sure what to do with, but he supposes he’ll come to understand it later. Right now, he needs to wait out the commotion and secure himself a job in the bathhouse. It feels a lot easier said than done.

 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell at me on [ tumblr](http://tearful.tumblr.com/)


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